Opposites Attract
by TheWhoufflePrincess
Summary: Malcolm Tucker and Clara Oswald are known for despising each other. Everyone in the office knew. Little did any of them know, opposites did attract.


A little rushed, but hopefully satisfactory.

* * *

It was a normal occurrence at Number 10.

"You know goddamn right where your goddamn place is, Oswald!"

To think, Malcolm Tucker was already a handful to everyone. He was their spin doctor, the damn human megaphone was indeed. Although he had quite the sailor mouth, he was still an amazing addition to their party regardless. He still got work done and kept them all in line.

Until he met his match.

"So? I'm a part of this party as well! Specifically the one that's supposed to do the education portion!"

When Clara Oswald came along, it became two voices yelling, now including a short woman from Blackpool screaming her own responses to the human megaphone, without the cussing. She was the milder version of Malcolm, and that on its own was enough.

"It doesn't matter! It goes through me, every single goddamn decision of this party! Anything can create a fucking problem and then I have to fucking clean your mess!"

It was a sight to behold. Some joked they secretly fucked, with great anger. Some joked that they actually got along behind closed doors. Some joked it was all a ruse to fuck with everyone, as they knew Malcolm had to capacity to do it. Some joked they were actually the embodiment of an old couple, fighting until they ran out of breath.

The real joke was that everyone had no idea what was truly happening behind closed doors, when nobody was around. Just the two of them, in Malcolm's office. The workers of Number 10 could joke all they want, but they had no idea that their harmless little jests were actually true.

It became more of a prank as time went on. Malcolm and Clara would pretend to shout at each other, with the smallest shit, only to end up sharing a heated kiss, practically begging for more from each other. They would often end up christening the desk with many different positions..

Multiple times.

They found it hilarious. Nobody could understand, except for them.

At one point, Ollie asked what did Clara do to Malcolm at one particular instance, as Ollie found Clara to actually be quite beautiful and always brightened the room, regardless if Malcolm was there or not.

"Malcolm, what did Clara ever do to you?" Ollie asked innocently. Malcolm glanced to Clara, as she stood a few meters away, behind Ollie. She had heard the question and smirked.

"Miss Oswald doesn't seem to understand the basis of a political party. She shouldn't even be here; she's a fucking Oxford newbie that popped out of her mother's womb recently." He had even more to say, but he wasn't really trying.

"I don't know what I'm doing?" Clara asked, also hearing this as well. Ollie backed off as Clara approached Malcolm with the angriest look she could procure. Malcolm found it adorable. It resulted in another shouting match. They personally loved watching the looks on their co-workers' faces. They could never understand.

They had their fun, up until one point...one point when Ollie Reeder had to catch them.

* * *

Ollie spilled his coffee on his desk by pure accident. He groaned, glad that his desk was at least cleared of any important documents. He got up, glad that Number 10 wasn't as occupied as it normally was so he didn't look as stupid and made his way to the broom closet, where most of their cleaning supplies were held. It was near the farther end of the building, away from most of the offices.

Ollie was about to open the door when he heard a soft moan coming from the closet. He raised his eyebrows, listening for it again. The closet gave him another, to his surprise. He thought he was just hearing things, but it wasn't. It was a rough type of moan, a sound he would expect from...no. That was impossible as it was.

It didn't even end there. A woman's moan too. Soft, muffled, but nonetheless, a moan. Malcolm wouldn't be fucking anybody, would he?

Would...he?

As curiosity killed the cat, Ollie opened the door. He found Malcolm and Clara in the middle of a heated sexual escapade. Ollie's eyes practically burned at the sight, with Clara's face blushing profusely at the sudden opening of the door. Malcolm looked to him with a deep glare, eyes wide like an owl. Clara looked as though she was heavily enjoying Malcolm's cock. Ollie briefly wondered how the fuck Malcolm's cock still worked.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Ollie muttered, his mouth running faster than his mind, "You? With Clara? I thought you hated her! You practically scream bloody murder to each other!" Malcolm pulled his trousers up and Clara adjusted herself to her normal self. "You hate her!" Ollie repeated. As he did so, Malcolm shoved Ollie against the wall, pinning him down and causing some supplies to get knocked down.

"Not a word. Not a fucking word to any fucking body. I don't fucking care. I will end your career and subsequently, your fucking life. I'll ground you up until you're unrecognizable by-,"

"Malcolm!" Immediately, Malcolm looked to Clara, his gaze softening. The anger he had did not go out, but it was paused just to hear what Clara had to say. Ollie watched, astounded by how Clara had him wrapped around her little finger. How long has this been going for? Malcolm was untamable. What was her secret? How did she do this to the spin doctor? "Ollie, you know what happens if this gets out. Let's not have it happen, alright? We fight to mess with you lot."

"Seriously? How long has this been happening?" Ollie questioned as Malcolm let him go.

"Months." Clara supplied, "Now just forget about it."

"I won't talk about it, but Jesus Christ. You're banging...goodness. I can't even fucking say it."

"That's because you fucking won't. I will even cut off your tongue if I have to." Malcolm said. Clara glared at him. He stopped.

"Just get what you needed from here and we'll pretend this never happened."

"Fine. Just for you, Clara. Not for him." Ollie grabbed the paper towels and left the two. He couldn't believe it. They were banging each other. The two mortal enemies of Number 10. He was about to make his way to his desk, when Sam called his name. He paused, going in Sam's direction.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost." Sam pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Ollie decided it would do no harm to speak of what he had seen to Sam, as she was Malcolm's assistant.

"Do you know that Malcolm and Clara-,"

"Malcolm and Clara are banging each other? Yes, I knew it when they first started." Sam said, "They were so loud during their first time. They were lucky nobody was at the office besides myself, because I forgot my phone."

"And you just think it's okay?" Ollie questioned. Sam chuckled.

"I'm not saying anything. He's in a cheerier mood with Clara and I know he was doing the whole argument ruse with Clara for shits and giggles." Sam shrugged.

"I'll try to bleach my eyes after what I saw." Ollie muttered, walking away and finally heading to his desk. He still couldn't believe it as he cleaned his mess.

A few moments later, Malcolm and Clara came out, hands locked together. They seemed to be chatting quietly about something. When they reached Ollie's desk, Malcolm smirked at him and Clara smiled in his direction. The rest of the office noticed the lack of yelling coming from Malcolm's mouth and their eyes widened as the two lovebirds walked off. Ollie stared at them as they made their way to Malcolm's office.

They were fucking with and in the office. Mind and body, that was for sure.


End file.
